


Home

by tattooeddevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 23:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A voice calls his name. He only recognizes it because he’s been told that is his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

He lets his fingers run through the soft tops of the grass, the ends tickling his palms. Grass. Hands. The only sound around him is the wind and the rustling of the long grass. Wind. The clouds are heavy with rain, the sky promises thunder. Clouds. Sky. Rain. Thunder. He should head inside. Home.  
  
A voice calls his name. He only recognizes it because he’s been told that is his name. No one ever called him by his name in Purgatory. Dean. He forgot. Like so many other things, he forgot his own name. Dean. It was one of the last things to go, along with Castiel’s and his father’s. John. What stayed was Sam. Sammy. Sam.  
  
 _Take care of Sammy_  
  
Grass. Hands. Clouds. Sky. Rain. Thunder. Home.  
  
 **Sam**  
  
Dean.  
  
He hears the rumble start miles away. There’s no rain yet, no lightning, just that rumble. Thunder. The wind picks up, making the grass sweep wildly for a few seconds until it dies down again. Grass. The soft ends no long tickle his palms, because he’s got his hands up in the air trying to catch the wind. Hands. Wind. The wind doesn’t let itself be caught. He should head inside. Home.  
  
The voice is closer this time. Dean. He turns to see where it comes from. Sam. He opens his mouth to speak Sam’s name, but he forgot how. Mouth. Lips. Tongue. He wants to say it, wants to let the most important words in his world to come falling from his lips as if they would save him from the rest. Instead, he is left staring at the most important thing in his world. Sam.  
  
Sam smiles at him. Dimples. Smile. He says something about rain and thunder. A storm. He knows those words now. Storm. Sam’s hand wraps around his wrist, the fingers strong and firm around him. Hand. Wrist. When Sam tugs him along, he goes without hesitation. Sam knows, Sam never forgot, Sam is alive. Alive. Not dead. Earth. Home.  
  
Sam says it’s the rain making them wet. Rain. He knows that word. Wet is new. Knowing the word isn’t enough though. Rain doesn’t sound as sticky as it is in reality. Wet. They reach the house just as the first streak of lightning pierces the sky. Lightning. Thunder. House. Home.  
  
Sam.  
  
The house shakes, the rain makes noise on the roof, the lightning bathes them in bright light for nanoseconds at a time. Nanoseconds. That’s new. They didn’t have that in Purgatory. Sam teaches him.  
  
Sam makes him coffee. Says he loves it. He can’t remember. Sam looks sad. No smile. No dimples. Sam teaches him what coffee is. He still doesn’t remember. He still doesn’t know.  
  
“That’s okay, Dean. Just keep remembering me and I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”  
  
Sam.  
  
Home.


End file.
